


Self-Destruct

by the_painless_moustache



Series: Nameless [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Star Trek
Genre: Fingering, I did, John's a little conflicted, M/M, Masturbation, but not that conflicted, butt stuff, can I put that?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 07:31:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1183551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_painless_moustache/pseuds/the_painless_moustache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He can’t remember ever feeling this good while touching himself, and all the while he can hear that obscene voice.<br/>***<br/>Second part of a series. Can be read as a stand-alone if you wanted, but you might be missing some stuff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Self-Destruct

**Author's Note:**

> A lot of people wanted to see more of this. How could I say no? Let me know about any errors on here or on my [tumblr](http://itsarugsbust.tumblr.com/) (for the more shy)  
> A huuuuuge thanks to Laura for helping me come up with a title! :D Go [read her stuff](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Unterpression/profile) and check out her [blog](http://willtherealpleasestandup.tumblr.com/) because she's amaaazing

 John couldn’t sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, his body tensed and he swore he could feel the man’s hot breath against his neck. _Sherlock’s_ breath, he reminds himself. He bites on his cheek when the baritone voice hums in his head _You’ll come back to me, Doctor. I’ll be waiting_.

 He didn’t know what to tell his superiors. Part of the reason he’d been sent in the first place was because Pike hadn’t allowed cameras in his cell, so luckily there hadn’t been some guard watching him get fucked by arguably the most dangerous criminal in the prison. Still, he was to file a report on the prisoner’s condition, on his mental health. John couldn’t very put that he’d failed to do his evaluation because the moment he’d stepped in the room he’d gotten a cock up his arse.

 John moans and rolls onto his back. He’s sore in all of the right places, and the more he thinks about it the harder he gets. He remembers of Sherlock’s earlier words. _You’ll walk back to your cabin with the feeling of me inside you and finger yourself all over again. You’ll use my come to do it, too. And for weeks after you wash me off, you’ll still remember how wet you were with it._

 Oh, God, and John had wanted to. He’d almost done, too, when he fled to the shower. The only thing that had stopped him was how utterly spent he was. He bites his lip and lets his fingers trail across his stomach, shivering when they hit the band of his pants. God, would he? Would he really?

 The answer is clearly yes. He groans and gives in, groping clumsily in a way he hadn’t since he was a teen. His prick is already fairly filled, but his palming gets him the rest of the way there. He shirks the pants entirely, letting the covers slip off as well. He brushes his palm against the tip of his cock. The noise that comes out of his mouth is enough to make him blush, but not enough to make him stop. He turns and reaches across with his free hand to fumble for lube. It’s in the back of his drawer, but he gets a hold of it and removes his hand from his cock long enough only to warm it.

 When he grabs himself again, he makes another sinful noise. He can’t remember ever feeling this good while touching himself, and all the while he can hear that obscene voice. _Oh, Doctor. Look at you. Only just started and already about to come?_ His head thrashes as his hips get tired of his pacing and shove up to meet his hand. “Jesus, _Jesus_.” he groans. “Oh, fuck.”

 He’s going to come. He’s not lasted even six minutes, and he wants this to last _hours_. He squeezes and takes a few deep breaths, forcing himself to focus on anything— _anything_ —but the memory of Sherlock. He gets enough control to remove his hand, which helps quite a bit as well. Then he grabs the lube again, warming more between his fingers before trying to find the most comfortable position.

 He ends up propping his blankets under his lower back and stretching one arm around his right leg. When his finger tips touch his hole, he realizes how bruised he was. Still, the hurt almost feels _good_ , so he pushes one finger in.

 John Watson isn’t really a man of faith, but he can’t help but thank God for small miracles now. He’s still loose enough that he doesn’t need to spend too much time stretching back out, so soon he’s got two fingers thrusting in and out of him. He whimpers and stops trying to govern himself. His other hand grabs his cock. He flexes his fingers on every upstroke, his thumb pressing just under his frenulum. He growls in frustration, completely maxed out in pleasure but just _not there_.

  _Fuck yourself on my cock._ Sherlock growls in his head. John grinds his teeth hard. _Remember what this feels like, John. Remember what it feels like to give yourself up to me, remember how much you love it._ “Oh, _fuck_. Sh… _Sherlock_ …” _Come for me, John._

 John comes spectacularly. He spits out more swear words than he remembers knowing, in a few different languages, and continues jacking himself and riding his fingers through the whole thing. When he’s done, he pushes a little longer until he thinks he might cry from overstimulation. He pulls his hands away from himself, spreading out so none of his limbs touch the rest of his body.

 Once he’s had time to learn how to breathe again, he starts to notice how utterly disgusting he is. He’s got semen on his stomach all the way to his throat. He’s sweaty, and his hands and cock are covered in lube. _I’m going to need another shower_ , he thinks with a sigh. It takes a surprising amount of strength and willpower to get him into said shower, and even more to keep him upright while he cleans off.

 When he’s done he collapses back into bed in nothing but his towel, but despite his lethargy he’s still not tired. He considers who’s working and decides Mike won’t let him pull a double shift. He’s almost resigned to just lying awake miserably when he decides to go for it.


End file.
